Willing Complication 03: Raking Leaves
by moor
Summary: You do not try to blackmail or get payback on Shi Seiran. Follow-up to "Harvest"


**TITLE: **Raking Leaves. [Week 61]  
**AUTHOR:** **beyondthemoor** on LJ  
**RATING: **K  
**GENRE: **Gen/Humour  
**WARNINGS: **Lack of practice, as mentioned last time.  
**AU/CANON:** Canon-ish, no set spot in timeline  
**PAIRINGS: **Shuurei x Seiran  
**WORD COUNT: **900 words (approx)  
**SUMMARY: **You do not try to blackmail or get payback on Shi Seiran. (Follow-up to "Changing Leaves" and "Harvest")

**PROMPT:** #61 – Raking Leaves  
**NOTES: **Three for three! Written for the 'Raking Leaves' prompt at the saiun_challenge LJ comm.

* * *

"Raking Leaves"

The embarrassed soldier stomped furiously through the streets of Kiyou towards the (albeit dilapidated) Kou residence, his eyes blazing and face cross.

"So he thinks he can trick me, does he?" he muttered to himself, ignoring the way the residents moved from his path to let him pass. "Well, I'll show him. I'll show him and his precious, 'Ojou-sama'," he chirped in a disturbing falsetto.

His pace was slightly hampered by his pronounced limp, a gift from his wife the day he returned from that fateful tour of the villages during the Mid Autumn Festival. The woman had assaulted him with a bamboo carpet beater, and it had been days before he'd been able to sit comfortably on a chair.

And all because of one man.

Yes, Shi Seiran would pay for his trickery.

The troll arrived at the gates to the Kou compound, and slammed his ruddy fist rudely against the door—

--only to have it stick, and pull away after a second, covered in red paint.

"What the--," he started, staring at his hand and sleeve.

Then the door swung open, and a very irritated Shuurei stared at the man angrily.

"Did you just damage our freshly painted door!" she demanded, hands fisted on her hips.

Even at just over five feet tall, she struck an intimidating figure when upset.

"I'm here to see Seiran," he blustered, trying to regain his anger.

But Shuurei would not be cowed—not when it came to her home and those who showed such disrespect towards it.

"Can you not read?" she asked shrilly, pointing to the sign just beside the door… which he'd indeed missed… and which clearly stated, _"Fresh Paint!"._

"Is something wrong, Ojou-sama?" called Seiran, coming up behind her and peering over her shoulder at the newcomer.

His eyes fell upon the man who'd followed him all over all the villages their division had visited, and his look hardened in recognition. With her back to him, Shuurei of course didn't see the change.

"Aha! So _you're_ the Ojou-sama!" exclaimed the man triumphantly, ignoring Seiran (a move he would later regret). The burly, stout man fairly preened with malice at the realization. Oh, he was definitely going to get Shi Seiran now! "Did you know what your man here was up to while he was away on tour, my little darling?"

But little did he know, he'd already invoked Evil Seiran and the predator had become the prey.

Completely ignoring the 'guest's' persistence, the loyal retainer distracted Shuurei with a charming tone and a warm touch to her elbow in guidance, leaning over and whispering in her ear,

"Ojou-sama, could you please go make some tea for our visitor? I believe he'll want to apologise properly," said Seiran, gently turning Shuurei and smiling at her, his eyes turned in their usual happy crescents when he was around her.

The burned soldier's features darkened at the move. How dare he use his legendary Seiran-appeal! This was a man's fight!

He opened his maw wider, and promptly...

"Oy! Are you listening to me?"

…complained like a spoiled child.

Just across the doorstep, the young woman looked at her most trusted person a moment, measuring his expression, before relaxing her shoulders and conceding with a wry grin. "Fine, fine." She relented, taking a step back inside the garden.

Sensing the shift in the power paradigm, and being on the unwanted side of that dime, another voice rose petulantly in a near-whine, trying to regain a foothold in the conversation.

"I said, while Seiran was away, he went to a--."

Shuurei's focus was not on the troll.

"But he," she insisted with a point in the hobgoblin's direction and completely ignoring his tirade, "is to fix the door he ruined before he leaves."

"He will be happy to," replied Seiran with a smile, having eyes only for her.

Swearing colourfully, the red-faced gnome turned now to the silver-haired monster he sought.

"I'm not fixing--," began the belligerent man, but was cut off when Seiran turned his back to Shuurei—once she was out of sight—and loomed over his unwanted visitor, only to jab a rake straight into the man's throat, cutting off his airway. Silent warning that just because there were no swords at hand, he wouldn't hesitate to get resourceful.

His eyes shone red and he glared malevolently at the man who'd _dared to disturb his Ojou-sama._

"You WILL be VERY happy to help."

There was pure, unvarnished _lethal_ intent in that tone.

"… of… c-c-course…" the soldier choked out, somewhat fearing for his health under the fierce attention.

* * *

"He's finished repainting the door and raking the east yards already? He's quite industrious!" Shouka couldn't keep the surprise from his voice. He'd waved to the man when he'd arrived home that afternoon, but it seemed to just make him that much more determined. Seiran, who'd met him at the gate, had explained the visitor was just repaying a favor.

"Mmm, and Seiran said he has volunteered to help rake the leaves from around the temple school, too!" gushed Shuurei as she poured another cup of tea for her father.

"What a nice man."

For his part, Seiran took all his weapons outside to the rear wrap-around veranda, overlooking the visitor. It just seemed like the perfect time to oil, tweak and sharpen every single one of their itty, bitty points.

* * *

Posted 19 January, 2010. END.


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